"I expect there will be more by next post. Quick, let's carry them into the office. I think you won't complain that the secretary will be idle. You see, uncle, I shall be kept busy going to see them and just looking round."
"Busy! It's the work of Sisyphus or what's his name."
"I'll carry them in my skirt. Shoot them in, uncle. Chum, carry the rest and open the doors for us. Don't drop any, uncle, it may be just the most deserving case."
"It's my belief you have trod on a hornet's nest. Besides, they won't have believed in that advertisement!"
"I think they have," said Toney, emptying her skirt on the secretary's table. "St. Francis hadn't a daily post and never advertised," she continued rather sadly, "but he would have tackled it somehow."
Mrs. Faber was busy putting the letters in some kind of order, and could not help smiling.
"What guidance are you going to give Mr. Russell?"
"I've thought it all out and it will be awfully interesting work, only I want to do it as much as I can myself like Brother Giles. He believed that work was as good as prayer, and that even if you were talking to an angel and your superior called you, you must leave the angel."
"They are not very common visitors, Toney. Well, good-bye, I'll leave you to tackle his Serene Highness."
"And I must write up Lady Dove's visiting book," said Mrs. Faber, so they both escaped as they heard Mr. Russell's step in the passage.